Blurred Lines
by CatS81
Summary: BoydGrace After too much to drink at the Christmas social, the boundaries of Boyd and Grace's friendship become increasingly confused...


"Blurred Lines"

Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips and took a large sip. The sharp liquid burned down his throat to his stomach, warmth spreading through his chest. Boyd sat back in his chair, enjoying the sensation of the alcohol on his body as he observed the room around him. Some of his colleagues were standing in groups talking and sipping drinks, others were piling their plates at the buffet table while still others had already ventured onto the dance floor, laughing self consciously as they began to move to the music. _God, happy people are depressing..._

"Getting into the party spirit, I see."

Boyd looked up to see his friend and colleague, Dr. Grace Foley, forensic psychologist, standing before him, a drink in each hand. He gave her a half-hearted smile as she sat down beside him, placing a pint of dark-coloured beer on the low table he was resting his feet on.

"I bought you a drink. I thought you might need it." She said, taking a gulp from her own wine glass.

He grunted his thanks and picked up the glass. "Guinness?"

"Yep. Good enough?"

"Bloody Irish drain water."

"Ungrateful bastard. I'll give it to Spence then, shall I? Being that you're disrespecting my family ancestry."

"No, no. The more alcohol the better. I'll need it to get through this bloody party." He downed half of the pint quickly, grimacing at the unpleasant taste and texture of the beverage. Grace rolled her eyes. "I mean, why's everyone so damn cheerful?"

"It's Christmas, Boyd. It's customary to be cheerful."

"Yeah, well, bah humbug."

Grace laughed. "You should take a leaf out of Spence's book."

"What?"

She nodded in the direction of the other side of the room where Detective Inspector Spencer Jordan was leaning against the wall with one hand and gesturing emphatically with the other as he spoke. The young woman who was the object of his attention had her head thrown back with laughter, reaching out to Spence's chest with her hand as she shook with her amusement.

Boyd snorted with contempt. "He's a bloody gigollo, that one."

"He's a people-person, Boyd."

"Well as long as the 'people' are in short skirts and tight tops anyway."

"He's young, free and single. You remember the days, don't you?"

Boyd took another draw from his glass and chased the fluid down with the remainder of his whiskey. "Barely, Grace. Barely."

She gave him a sideways glance. "I bet you were a player, just like Spence."

"Oh, I was not."

"Oh no?" Grace's eyes were sparkling. She knew he had had an affair ten years ago when he had been married and she enjoyed teasing him about it.

He looked at her, reading her expression in an instant. "Piss off, Grace."

Grace laughed loudly. "Oh cheer up, Boyd."

"No. Leave me to be miserable in peace."

"I wouldn't leave you in your hour of need now, would I?"

"Then start drinking, woman. You're in for a long haul."

She smirked, his slightly slurred speech convincing her of his already intoxicated state. "I'll get a couple of bottles of wine then, shall I?"

"Yeah, yeah. No more Guinness."

Grace got up from her chair and sauntered to the bar, smiling as she approached two of her colleagues who were perched on stools. "Hello, you two."

Dr. Frankie Wharton threw her arm about Grace's shoulders from her lofty position on the bar stool in greeting. "Grace! Want to come and get drunk with the girls?"

"I think I've already got my drinking buddy for the evening, Frankie." Grace gestured towards Boyd in the corner.

Detective Sergeant Mel Silver rolled her eyes. "Oh Grace, leave old misery guts, he'll only bring you down with him."

"Misery guts, eh? I'll tell him you said that."

"Don't forget to include the 'old' bit too." Mel giggled.

Grace eyed the young women suspiciously. "How much have you pair had to drink?"

"Not much, mum, honest." replied Frankie, dark eyes shining.

"Cheeky." said Grace as she leaned over the bar to order her drinks. The bar man placed two bottles of wine onto the counter moments later.

"A bottle each?" asked Mel, incredulously.

"Or two bottles for me depending on how depressed he gets me."

"That's the spirit, Grace." said Frankie, grinning.

"I'll see you two later." Grace said. "Enjoy yourselves."

Mel and Frankie waved their goodbyes as Grace moved back through the crowded room towards Boyd. She set the bottles and glasses on the table before him and sat back down in her chair.

"Well, I think your forensics expert and your Sergeant are still going to be hung-over by Monday the way Frankie and Mel and putting it away over there."

Boyd smiled as he poured the wine. "I'd better be extra irritating come Monday then."

"Oh, you miserable bugger."

"Absolutely."

He handed her a glass of rich red wine and she accepted, touching her glass to his. "Cheers, Peter. Merry Christmas."

"Am I required to say that back then?"

"Yes. It won't kill you, you know."

"It might." He paused. "Give me time to drink a few more glasses and I might consider it."

"Fine, fine. I'll just enjoy the repartée till then."

"I'm not here for amusement you know, Grace."

"Aren't you? Why are you here then?"

"Is that a philosophical question or... ?"

"You know what I mean."

He sighed. "It's good to show my face, isn't it? I mean, it's expected."

"Oh, so you are a conformist underneath all the bullshit then."

He groaned. "What is this, another excuse for you to profile me?"

"I wouldn't do that at a party, Boyd."

"I never know with you, you're...sneaky like that."

Grace laughed out loud at his comment. "Sneaky? Me?"

"Yeah, you get inside my head and you mess about with my brain."

"Boyd, if I could find your brain it would be a bloody miracle."

"Oh, you wound me, Grace. You wound me."

She smiled, enjoying their banter. "Shut up and drink your wine."

He obliged, feeling his spirits lifting with the consumption of alcohol and the relaxed conversation. He stretched in his body to feed blood to his tired muscles, flinging his arm casually over the back of Grace's chair. She crossed one leg over the other towards him, revelling in the familiar air of flirtation that had always touched their long-standing friendship on a regular basis. The lights began to dim in the room then and the music became suddenly louder, the pop beats reverberating through the floor.

Boyd groaned. "Am I getting old or does the music get louder every year at these bloody things?"

"You're getting old."

"What?" He asked, unable to hear her gentle tones over the music and the DJ's announcement over the tannoy.

She leaned towards him, her lips to his ear, his beard tickling her cheek. His slightly spicy cologne drifted from his neck to her nose and she inhaled as subtly as she could, breathing in the scent of him before replying. "I said you're getting old."

She pulled away from him slightly, their faces still only inches apart as his eyes locked with hers. She tried in vain to slow her suddenly racing heart and forced herself to move further away from him, reaching for her drink on the table.

"Yeah, well. You must be getting old right along with me then." He replied after a few moments, her proximity having momentarily disorientated him.

Grace sipped her wine quietly, trying desperately to form coherent thoughts in a mind that was intoxicated by alcohol and his nearness. She knew a change of subject was rapidly needed to move her rationale away from the not entirely unpleasant notion of growing old with him.

"I got some good news today, you know." She started.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"My daughter, Beth, just found out she's pregnant. I'm going to be a Granny."

Boyd laughed loudly. "It's Granny Grace from now on then, is it?"

"Oh, ha bloody ha."

His laughter subsided to a smile and he moved towards her, his lips grazing her cheek softly and then finding the corner of her mouth. Grace took a sharp intake of breath at his kiss. "Congratulations, Grace. That's wonderful news."

She smiled. "I know, I was over the moon when she told me. Beth's actually a little bit in two minds about it."

"Yeah?"

"Well, she's only twenty-two, Boyd, a couple of years into medical school...She says it herself, it's not exactly perfect timing but..."

"When is it perfect timing to have a child though?"

"Exactly, that's what I told her. And she and her boyfriend have been together four years. He's lovely, he'll make a wonderful father."

"And of course, Granny Grace will be on hand to offer assistance any time of the day or night."

She slapped his leg playfully. "Don't give her any ideas."

"As if I would."

"God, I can't believe she's going to be a mum. I just wish that Jack..." She broke off, unexpectedly overcome with emotion across her chest as she thought of her late husband.

"Oh Grace..."

Grace took a deep breath, forcing down the lump in her throat. "Sorry."

He brought his hand from the back of her chair to squeeze her shoulder. "It's all right."

Grace rubbed her hand across her face, embarrassed at the tears pricking her eyes. "I don't know what's the matter with me, it's been ten years for God's sake."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, isn't that what you're always telling me?" His hand had moved to the back of her neck, caressing her tense muscles gently with his fingers. She began to relax gradually under his ministrations.

"I suppose I just wish he was here to share all this with Beth and me, that's all."

"Well, of course you do."

Grace sighed. "God, I'm sorry. This isn't exactly fitting conversation for a party, is it."

Boyd reached to the table with his free hand to re-fill both of their glasses. "Well, then, let's just drink and forget the conversation, eh?"

She smiled, blinking away the last of her tears. "Thanks, Peter."

He shrugged. "Nice to know I am slightly useful, then."

Her smile broadened as she reached for her glass once again, her embarrassment fading. "Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"No, I didn't think you would somehow."

They lapsed into comfortable silence then, Boyd's hand moving to Grace's shoulder blades and rubbing across them gently, his palm tracing lazy circles against her upper back. Grace sighed softly, wondering whether to broach the subject or just enjoy the effect his touch was having on her body. Momentarily, she decided she needed to know.

"You're very touchy-feely tonight." She ventured carefully, unsure of his reaction.

"Well, what can I say, Grace. You bring out the sensitive side in me."

"Oh, do I? I didn't think you had one."

He smiled slightly before turning his head to make eye contact with her. "Is it a problem? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

She blinked under his scrutiny, feeling the speed of her heartbeat increase. "No. I was just curious, it's...somewhat out of character for you, you know."

"I know. Let's not analyse it too much, eh? I'm not sure I handle a deep conversation about why I can't seem to stop touching you."

Grace drew a breath sharply at that and her shoulders stiffened against his hand. "Boyd..."

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Grace."

She took a deep breath. "You're right. Now might be one of those occasions where it's best not to over-analyse."

His fingers resumed their movement across her shoulders and she felt herself relax into his hand, despite the slightly dangerous turn their conversation had taken.

"You realise, of course, that my very nature as a psychologist is to analyse people and situations."

He paused for a moment before replying. "What about your nature as a woman?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so you do see me as a woman, then?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Well, of course I do. How else would I see you?"

"I don't know. You're the absolute king of mixed signals, Boyd."

"Am I?"

She was quiet, ignoring his question and returning her gaze to the room, unsure how to answer him without revealing_...What exactly? How I feel about him? God knows I've been denying it to myself for too many years to be sure anymore._

He let out his breath beside her, his hand moving back to her neck unconsciously, his fingertips massaging the tiny tendons and muscles as his thoughts raced. "Grace?" He prompted, her silence unnerving him slightly.

"Hmm?"

"Mixed signals?"

"Oh, Boyd, forget it. I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not?"

She sighed. "Something about opening up a can of worms..."

"Ah, yes. Damn those worms."

She laughed and batted his leg, relieved that he had removed some of the intensity from the conversation. "I'm serious!"

"I know you are. And I was serious about not over-analysing."

She let her hand remain on his thigh, enjoying the feel of his muscles under her palm. "All right. Maybe just for tonight."

His eyes flickered to her hand on his leg before meeting hers questioningly. She shrugged. "Not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

He grinned. "Oh, very good, Grace. Touché."

"I rather thought so."

Boyd drained his glass in one gulp, the room spinning slightly as he looked around. Grace's hand was warm on his thigh and her neck was soft against his fingers. He took a deep breath, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in months. In his mind, he knew the alcohol was responsible, both for his relaxed state and for his sudden lack of inhibitions with his long-standing friend but for the moment he didn't care. Presently, he became aware of Grace laughing softly beside him.

"What?" He asked.

She gestured with her free hand back across the room towards Spence who was now in a passionate embrace against the wall with the woman who he had been pursuing earlier in the evening. Boyd grunted. "He's moved in for the kill, then."

"Doesn't look like she's complaining too much, does it."

"Good God, he's practically groping her."

"It's traditional at the Christmas do, isn't it? The young ones get drunk and gregarious..."

"...while the old ones get drunk quietly in the corner?"

She smiled at him. "Exactly."

He looked over at her, noticing for the first time how the soft light of the room was highlighting her delicate features. Impulsively, he leant over and kissed her gently on the cheek, his face remaining near to hers as he pulled away.

"Grace..." He murmured.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of him, his aftershave, the alcohol on his breath. Her heart was beating quickly in her throat, the blood rushing to her face. "Boyd..." She managed, her voice sounding quiet to her ears.

"Am I making you uncomfortable now?" He asked, his lips mere inches from hers.

She opened her eyes slowly, unable to tear her gaze from his mouth. "Just kiss me, Boyd."

He closed the gap between them to oblige her, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss, his beard tickling her chin. She broke away, her eyes locking with his. She found she suddenly couldn't breathe as she looked at him, butterflies rising from her stomach and into her chest.

"Oh God, Boyd..." She whispered.

He kissed her again, full on the lips and she moaned unashamedly into his mouth as his tongue intertwined with hers, the attraction between them fuelling a passionate mating of their lips He nibbled along her jaw and down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses against her skin. Grace was panting, breathless as the room spun before her eyes, intoxicated by the wine in her bloodstream and Boyd's hot breath against her neck. He stopped as he reached the collar of her shirt and she whimpered at the loss of his touch. He stood up, his eyes never leaving hers as he put a hand out for her to take. She didn't hesitate, his skin rough against her palm. In three steps she felt her back intersect with the wall corner as his lips descended on her again. She kissed him back desperately, her hands roaming his back, feeling his muscles through his shirt. Boyd's hands were everywhere at once, one cupping her face, the other moving to her waist before sliding up her ribs to brush the underside of her breast. She gasped against his mouth, lightning bolts of arousal shooting to her abdomen. She could feel him, hard against her stomach, his readiness clearing her mind suddenly and she fought every instinct in her body to pull away from his lips.

"Boyd..." She panted, gratified to see that he was having as much trouble catching his breath as she was.

"My office..."

"We can't."

"Well, I don't think I can make it home, Grace." He moved his hips against her to prove his point and she groaned, his evident arousal making hers difficult to ignore.

"We can't do this, Peter...We still have to work together."

"I thought we weren't analysing tonight."

"That's not analysing, it's just stating a fact. Come Monday morning we still have to face each other in the office, we still have to work together as colleagues..."

Boyd's dark eyes were intense as he looked at her and his voice soft. "Tell me you don't want this, Grace."

Grace felt her mouth go dry. "You know I can't..."

"Then..."

"... but I also know it would be a mistake. A serious mistake."

"Grace..."

"No, Boyd." Grace's voice was firm, betraying her quivering insides. "No."

Boyd sighed as he realised her sincerity, trying desperately to ignore the tension in his groin. "All right. All right, Grace. Can we just stay here for a minute though, I don't think I'm quite fit to be in public yet."

Grace laughed, her head falling against his shoulder as his arms enveloped her in an embrace. "This probably isn't helping, you know." She murmured into his shirt, feeling his responding laughter rumble against her hair.

"Oh, I know." He pulled away, taking her hands in his and kissing her gently on the mouth. "I'm sorry, Grace."

"You might have noticed, Boyd, I wasn't exactly resisting you."

"Should we just blame the alcohol?"

"Maybe. I'm sure that had something to do with it."

"Not everything though."

Grace sighed. "No."

"Something deeper than alcohol-fuelled lust?"

"Do you want me to be honest?"

"Of course I do."

"If you'd come on to me when we were both sober I wouldn't have resisted you."

"Really?"

"Yep. Does that surprise you?"

"A bit, yeah. I always thought you found me a bit of a pain in the arse."

"Oh, I do. Just a pain in the arse I happen to find very attractive."

"Would you be glad to know the feeling's entirely mutual?"

Grace smiled. "I'm relieved, actually. I was half of the mind you were seeing me through beer goggles."

"Don't be ridiculous."

She shrugged. "It all comes back to the mixed signals thing, Boyd. I was never sure how you felt."

"I suppose I was never really sure how to express it."

Grace paused. "Where do we go from here then?"

"I don't know..."

"I...I mean, I don't want things to be uncomfortable, Boyd. I was serious about us still having to be able to function together at work."

"I know." He sighed. "I know."

"Going to bed with each other certainly isn't the answer."

He smiled slightly. "Well..."

Grace shook her head incredulously. "Bloody man."

His smile subsided as his eyes met hers, seeing his own feelings of uncertainty reflected on her face. "It would never work would it."

She sighed. "No. I don't think it would."

"Shall we just leave this as a memory then? A pleasant, sexy, drunken memory?"

"Hmm, pleasant and drunken is about right."

"Not sexy?"

"Sexy doesn't even begin to describe it, Peter. It's been a long time since I felt that desirable."

"God, Grace." He breathed, incredulous at her modesty. "You've got no idea, have you?"

She flushed as he squeezed her hands, his compliment warming her chest. "Thank you." She whispered, her voice feeling tight in her throat.

He stepped towards her again, his hands sliding up her arms and shoulders, his fingers cupping her face gently, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. Grace took a shaky breath.

"I think I should be going." She said quietly.

"Me too." He smiled slightly. "I suppose it's too risky to suggest sharing a taxi?"

Grace laughed out loud. "I think it probably is."

His smile broadened as he kissed her gently on the mouth once more, unable to resist slipping his tongue into her warmth as her lips molded against his. Momentarily, Grace pulled away.

"Please don't, Peter." She murmured. "You do that again and my will-power will be at zero."

"Well, that's my evil plan, you see."

She smiled sadly, her heart wrenching as she looked at him even as her better judgment told her to walk away. "I'll see you on Monday."

Boyd nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Grace disentangled herself from his arms and moved back towards the chairs to retrieve her coat, trying desperately to stop her hands shaking from the emotion in her chest. Boyd's palm was flat against her lower back, his heat radiating into her muscles. His free hand had grasped her coat and he draped it round her shoulders.

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"I can be a gentleman, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure of that."

He kissed her on the cheek as if to prove his point. "Good night, Grace."

"Good night, Peter."

She began to walk away from him, bittersweet feelings flooding her mind. She knew they were doing the right thing by not getting involved but she couldn't shake the sadness in her throat and the tightness in her stomach. _I must be mad... I'm in love with the man, for God's sake..._

"Grace?" He called after her and she turned at the sound of his voice.

"Boyd?"

"Merry Christmas."

She smiled – a mixture of joy and sorrow – before heading towards the exit and into the cold winter night.

The End


End file.
